Victim Of Love
by gf7
Summary: Tara helps Buffy after an injury and then finds herself thinking about life, love, loss and pain.


TITLE: Victim Of Love  
AUTHOR: Shawn Carter  
WEBSITE: http://www.godfatherfic.batcave.net/index.html  
DISTRIBUTION: Sure. Ask.  
SUMMARY: Tara contemplates the world around her. Love, witches, life and slayers.  
RATING: PG  
NOTES: This takes place during the current season with the assumption of Tara knowing what is going on between B/S.  
MUSIC: The Eagles.  
  
***  
  
Her leg is broken. Shattered in three places. It should take about a week or so to heal. Slayer healing. Quite the gift. It makes all the pain just fly away. Boo-boo be gone.  
  
Sure wish life was like that.  
  
I'm standing out in the hall, just watching as people move past me. They're all in a hurry. To move to the next room. To the next hall. To the next chapter.  
  
It's cold in here. Or maybe it's just me. I hate hospitals.  
  
No no, not like everyone hates them..I mean..they terrify me. All the way to the bone. We all have our secrets. Some of them aren't really all that much. Just pain. Quiet, silent pain. My own.  
  
"Your friend is ready to go home. I'd suggest getting her to bed," a man says, coming up on my side. I hear him and then oddly, I startle. But I did hear him.  
  
I know I'm shaking a bit and I can't really help it. I reach out and very gently take Buffy's arms. She's drowsy, probably drugged. It's been a long night for her.   
  
For me too.  
  
You wouldn't believe how cold a room can get when it's empty. Okay, not quite empty; I was there. Lying on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I looked over to the opposite side and what I noticed was the depression.  
  
No..not mine. That's something else entirely. No, Will's. My Willow's. She had this way..you know..I don't know..but it always created this little dip in the mattress and over time..the bed just kept it. I touched it and a shiver went up me. That was enough.  
  
I had to get out.  
  
So I did.  
  
And here I am.   
  
Not doing so well am I? That's funny. Not ha-ha funny but so sickenly funny that for a moment everything loses focus.  
  
She groans and my focus is back on her.  
  
She doesn't look so well. But then, she's not. I'm not either. Funny how we're in this hell together. She's lost in her depression, I'm lost in my sadness. We both miss what we had: innocence.  
  
"Tara?" she murmurs. I chuckle; she's definitely drugged. "Did you call my mom? She'll freak if she's the last to know." Her words are slurred. I smile softly at her. I know this feeling. I know this agony.  
  
In the worst moments of pain, you return to absolute safety. I wish I still could but every part of me has accepted that my mom is gone. Something in Buffy is still holding on.  
  
And why not? It's not like her concepts of life and death haven't been dropped out a window.  
  
Oh Willow. Always back to you.  
  
I go over it in my head until my skull feels like it's cracking. I try to see how I could have stopped this. I know I'm partly responsible..I just don't know..  
  
I know the shoulda, coulda, wouldas..they don't mean much now. Like letters strewn about a bloody landscape. Hey..English Lit is paying off after all. Imagine that.  
  
"Here, easy.." I say, helping Buffy into my Rav. It's a new purchase. Let's..not got there. I shake my head and then lean across and belt Buffy. She looks so tired and worn down. Hardly the tough and strong Slayer of old. I guess we all fall eventually.  
  
I guess I'm like them all; I never wanted to see Buffy fall. It's truly terrifying.  
  
But on the other hand, I get it. Everyone does. Eventually. Falls that is. Loses their balance and their way. Their path to the light.  
  
"Don't take me back to the house," she whispers suddenly, quietly.  
  
I look over at her, a bit alarmed. "But..Dawn?"  
  
"I'll only scare her worse," Buffy insists, trying to straighten up. The earlier moment of mom missage is now clearly in the past. She's here and now. With the cold world all around her.  
  
Not quite the Slayer.  
  
"Ok, we can go back to my place," I offer. I'm about to say more when she speaks abruptly. Damn well blurts it out.  
  
"You know she loves you, right?"  
  
I blink. It takes me a moment. Then I reply, trying to keep my voice even, "I know. It's not about love though."  
  
She laughs, sounding bitter. "It never is."  
  
"Spike?" I ask.  
  
"Hell no," she spits. Then she softens. "I don't love Spike..I don't even like him..he just burns.."  
  
I nod, trying to understand but I know I can't really touch the darkness that is inside of her. Nor do I really want to but I do want to help. To make some of the pain go away. For her. For me. At all.  
  
I stop and think for a moment, searching for a name. Then I say it, slowly. "Angel?"  
  
She looks away. Jackpot. I study her, wondering if I can push. Finally I decide to. "Love's not easy.."  
  
"Love's a bitch," she says, almost angrily. "Love kills."  
  
"No," I say, not sure if I quite believe it. There are three hundred and twelve small holes in my ceiling. Love can really screw you up.  
  
"No?" she says looking at me. "What is love but heartbreak and loneliness. Always loneliness. And then ice." She touches her heart and I feel mine break. I know the pain. I'm there.  
  
She turns back to the door and stares out the window. It's a dark night. A Sunnydale night. Sometimes I hate this town.  
  
The rest of the drive is silent but there are a million things I want to say to her. I've heard about this Angel guy so many times but then there's always silence..like it's forbidden territory. Will told me that it was one of those big gaping wounds. The kind that never heals because you never get over it.  
  
The irony is rich because right now..that's what Willow is to me..a hole in my heart that I don't think will ever be fixed. Funny thing is I'm not sure I want it to. Strange. This I know. Thanks.  
  
I park my Rav and then swing around to the other door to help her. I slide an arm under her back and help her up. Once inside my small apartment, I move her to the couch. Now I just have to find cushions to elevate her leg.  
  
That's another story altogether.   
  
I hadn't intended on bumping into Buffy. I'd actually wanted to be alone. To get some air so maybe I could start working things out in my head. Well you know how that goes. Not like I'm crazy or anything.  
  
I didn't know at first why she picked St.John's to patrol. She never goes there; too many nests all in one place. But that's where I found her as I was driving around town with my windows down and the air conditioning blazing. By the way, it's fifty degrees. Just a bit crazy perhaps.  
  
I glanced around, looking for Spike. She was alone. And that's when I got it; she'd come to this cemetery to escape. From him. From everything. She was living in terror these days, trying to find light in pinpricks.  
  
I thought, okay Tara...let's go..she's the Slayer and she's fine and you need to start stepping back and away from all of this madness. It's eating you up.  
  
Which of course when this big vampire with a parrot tattoo reached up, grabbed her leg and then spun her while still holding it. I heard the multiple cracks from fifty feet away but that didn't even start to compare with the sound of her scream.  
  
It pierced through the air with raw agony. I know, English Lit again. But that's what it was. She was shaking on the ground, her hands in fists trying to balance herself as she attempted to crawl away. Tattoo Guy wasn't having it. He was just grinning away.  
  
I saw her drop her head to the dirt, her body convulsing. She looked like she was sobbing. Above her, the vampire was laughing.  
  
I guess that pissed me off.  
  
I gunned my engine and started to drive right towards him. He looked up at the last moment and then managed to jerk out of the way but I still nicked him and sent him sailing. He sat on the ground trying to gain his bearings so I did what I could; I pulled Buffy into the backseat.  
  
And then drove her to the hospital.  
  
And here we are.  
  
Four hours, twelve minutes and six seconds later.  
  
Okay, I made up the six seconds.  
  
"Buffy," I say, placing cushions under her leg. She moans a bit. "Tea?"  
  
"Sure," she says. She's calmer now but it feels more like resigned. Her head drops back against the couch.  
  
I offer her the tea and then sit beside her. "Are..are you okay?" Damn..I hate when I stutter.  
  
She smiles at me. "I'm sorry..I..I didn't mean..you know..drugged up.."  
  
I nod but I'm not buying. When you're cold, you're just cold. It's how it goes. I know the feeling.  
  
I stand up and cross over to get a blanket. I hold it for a moment, allowing the memories to flood through for a few seconds. Many an afternoon spent making love on this blanket. I pull it around me and inhale. I can still smell her.  
  
I take the second one; this one is Xander's. Not quite sure when Willow kidnapped it but somehow I ended up with it. Okay, I confess- when I was pissed off at her..I grabbed it. Okay now I feel guilty. Wonderful. That's more chocolate. More hips. Ugh...no no no.  
  
I wrap Xander's blanket over her and then settle back down. "It's going to be okay," I offer, not terribly convinced myself.  
  
"How do you know? You think you and Willow will make it?" Buffy asks, sounding so innocent. Like she needs this. Doesn't she know I do too?  
  
"I don't know," I admit and it sounds strange to me. I hadn't realized that I haven't really given up. I still have hope. "But life, Buffy..it'd about more than just love...it's about family and friends.."  
  
She looks up at me and I stop. Softly she says, "So why are you here and not with us?"  
  
I look away. She nods. We sit in silence. Finally I stand. "You need to sleep."  
  
"Okay," she says, settling back. I move the blanket further up on her. I squeeze her hand and then move towards my room. I imagine I won't sleep much tonight; I'm worried about her.  
  
She's not a stupid girl so I can't imagine why she would go to St.Johns' without backup. Unless she had other reasons. I shake my head.  
  
We all have our reasons for what we do. Life's like that. We make the best of every situation.  
  
I love Willow. I miss her. Every part of me aches for her. I want to find her and make all of this disappear.  
  
But that's an illusion.  
  
And the next chapter has to be blood, sweat and tears.  
  
It's just like that.  
  
Buffy's leg is broken. Shattered in three places. It should take about a week or so to heal. Slayer healing. Quite the gift. It makes all the pain just fly away. Boo-boo be gone.  
  
Sure wish life was like that.  
  
-FIN 


End file.
